The Inevitable
by Dyavol's Angel
Summary: America's vision spun as he tried to gather his bearings; he gasped and whimpered at the sight of all the nations staring at him; all he could think about now was Russia and their unmistakable future.


**Warning: sex (rated T because I didn't go into great detail)**

**I do not own Hetalia**

**EDIT: If there are any mistakes I'm really sorry; I'm having issues with FanFiction.**

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America could not believe the tension in the conference room; the air held a feeling of dread because there was no doubt that he would be going to war with Russia again. His boss had ordered him to stay away from Russia at all costs and he had even tried attending the conference with Alfred to supervise, but that would have been unnecessary; Russia was banned from the g8 meeting. That's why the room was full of tension; it was rolling off America in waves. It was the first time that anyone could speak without being interrupted; America was being unnaturally quiet and it was making the rest of the nations nervous.

"Amerique? Wouldn't you like to say something on this matter," France asked, curious as to what the young nation was thinking; his blue eyes traced the mess America had doodled on England's conference table until America captured his attention with his own blue eyes.

"You already know what I think on the issue at hand; the commie bastard needs to be put in his place and it looks like I'm the man for the job since the rest of you need my guidance," America's face was stoic but his eyes were telling a different story. His remark earned several offensive commits about his bitchy attitude, but he really didn't care. All he was really thinking was how much he was hurting on the inside.

"America we're just concerned about your relationship with him; we would really like to avoid another Cold War," England was trying to stay calm, but his demeanor was slowly beginning to crack; his face was already red from frustration, and his lips were pressed in a thin line as he was trying to keep his insults to himself.

"Cold War? Don't you mean fucking World War Three," Romano shouted across the room. The deafening silence broke into a hectic chaos, and old hatreds began to form in the condensing tension. America smirked at the mess he hadn't meant to cause; if he was miserable then the rest of them should be miserable as well. His eyes caught the movements of an antsy Prussia, who was talking rapidly to an obviously pissed off Germany, who gave a nod to whatever the Prussian had said.

Germany slammed his hands on the conference table, "All of you! Shut the Hell Up!" He slowly leaned off the table and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath, which didn't help as he continued yelling, "We are taking a lunch break and when you all come back all of your ass faces better be here and on time. Back in one hour!" With that the German left in a sour mood followed by an oblivious Italian. America dropped his pen on the table and left hastily before England had the chance to yell at him for doodling on the table again.

Food was the last thing on America's mind surprisingly enough; he just needed to be alone and away from the chaos, so he escaped to his hotel room. Once inside he sighed in relief and leaned against the closed door…

Something was off, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and it was not from the cold air; he slowly pushed himself off the door and reached for his gun concealed in his bomber jacket.

"Privyet Amerika."

"…What are you doing here? How did you even get in here?"

"You know I can't stay away from you."

"Russia… you have to leave before they find you," America whispered as he lowered his gaze to the floor. Within a matter of seconds he was engulfed in the icy embrace of Russia; the cold, it always stuck to him like permafrost, and America found himself looking into a storm of violet.

"Fredka," Russia cuffed America's chin, "I only care about you, and they can't keep us apart forever." Russia captured his lips in a soft, gentle kiss and America was melting, his legs were like jelly and if Russia weren't holding him then he would have fallen. Russia pulled away, smiling, and pulled the American to the bed, "Fredka all this stress isn't good for you."

"Russia pl-

"I'm not here on business please don't call me that, Fredka," Russia was now laying America down on his back and wrapped his arms around the other's waist to pull him closer, "just relax and enjoy the moment."

America took a deep breath of Russia's sweet scent and breathed out slowly, "I just wish you would stop."

"I love you Fredka, but my business is with Ukraine and no one else, although these are not my plans; if my boss tells me to do it then I have to." Russia moved one hand to run it through America's messy hair and rested his chin atop his head; they stayed like that until a quiet but firm knock interrupted their silence.

America looked at the door, not making a move for it, "Who is it?!"

"It's England, we need to talk."

Alfred froze at the voice and looked up at Russia for help but found none, "…Go away!"

"America this is important."

"I said leave!"

"…Alright, alright I'm leaving, but remember this America, you can't be with him." Footsteps were heard quietly retreating from whence they came.

At that moment, Alfred realized that this would be his last moments with Russia and a sudden panic made him unwrap himself from the Russian. Looking into violet eyes he demanded, "Take me."

"What?"

"Take me now, I don't care if we're caught just take me now please!" Alfred begged as he pulled his jacket off. Russia gave him a sad smile before pulling him into a rough kiss and expertly pulled clothes off without taking a break for air. Alfred's hands tugged off Ivan's overcoat and worked off his shirt. Pulling away from their kiss, Alfred whimpered as he pulled on the waistline on Ivan's pants, averting his eyes down and shyly looking up at Ivan.

Ivan's breath hitched as he leaned he head back, Alfred knew just what to do to turn him on; he out right moaned when Alfred's warm hands invaded his pants and embraced his member. "Don't tease," Ivan gritted his teeth as he hid his eyes behind his arm and lifted his hips off the mattress. Alfred chuckled and pulled the rest of Ivan's clothes off, going back to the man's length.

Ivan took more unsteady breaths as one of Alfred's hands glided nicely against his member and the other palmed him. Unable to take much more Ivan pulled the American so their faces were just inches apart and his hands roamed over Alfred's ass before one finger made its way into his entrance. Alfred gasped out in surprise and hid his face in the crook of Ivan's scarf covered neck before moaning out in pleasure. Ivan continued this until Alfred was use to his three fingers.

Alfred lifted his ass knowing what was to come; it was swift and quick, filling him up as he mewled and dug his fingers into Ivan's shoulders. Blue and violet eyes melded with one another as legs intertwined; love noises mingled in their ears only fueling their need to be close.

To be close…

To lust…

To love…

The nations were curious as to America's whereabouts; they had expected him to be late when he didn't show up on time, but the meeting was now over and he hadn't showed up at all. After arguing for several minutes they all decided to go check on America, but he did not respond when they knocked on the door. After more arguing it was decided upon to break the door down, so they did.

Italy was the first to take a look in the room and immediately hid behind Germany to keep his eyes off the sweet intimate scene. Various gasps were heard from the rest of the nations as they looked at the two sleeping nations intertwined in sheets and each other, all of them except England, who was furious.

Without thinking England waltzed right in the room and pulled America out of the mess and began yelling insults. America, whom was not too happy about being snatched out of his cocoon, punched England in the face and was dropped on the floor as England held his bleeding nose. America's vision spun as he tried to gather his bearings; he gasped and whimpered at the sight of all the nations staring at him; all he could think about now was Russia and their unmistakable future.

"You stupid wanker! How dare you bring him here!"

"I- I didn't."

"Don't you lie to me," England grabbed for America again. By that time Russia had woken up and he was angry at the assault on his lover, so he attacked. The other nations, snapping to their senses, rushed in to pull Russia off of England. America extended his hand out to the Russian, "No! Don't take him from me!" America screamed as England and France struggled to hold him back as the rest dragged the Russian away.

Russia gave him that sad smile again, "I love you Fredka."

"Vanya!" America cried as tears started to form in his cerulean eyes; he felt as if his heart was breaking in two as he watched helplessly as Russia was taken from him again.

Once everything had calmed down Alfred was left alone lying on the bed with Russia's overcoat surrounding him. How ironic for them to come check on him when he was perfectly happy and leave him in ruins without the slightest good-bye. He placed his hand over his aching heart and curled up in the overcoat; imagining Russia embracing him again.

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**This fic was basically my frustration at the news (I assume you know what I'm talking about) so I had to make a story about it.**


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